Calista can feel the tingling sensation on her skin from the sharp gazes from all directions directed at her. She can feel the tension slowly building up in the atmosphere that makes it seem that even one breath of hers will make the people around her devour her.
Her body instinctively held her breath as she glanced around her, and every time she shifted her gaze, she met different gazes from different people, but one thing was common among them. There's a hint of surprise and disgust in them.
What made it even more unsettling is the fact that those reactions are directed at her.
Calista unconsciously tightened her grip on the fabric of the duke's outfit. She doesn't know where to place her eyes, as at every spot she laid her eyes on, she met those unsettling gazes.
Her body turned stiff, and cold sweat fell down her cheeks at the tension in the air. Desperate to get away from the unsettling gazes, Calista buried her face into the duke's shoulder, attempting to shield herself from the attention.
Her hands instinctively grip the duke's cloth even further, seeking comfort and security. She felt a reassuring hand placed on her back, lessening her anxiety.
"Just breathe and take things one moment at a time," the duke's gentle and stoic voice resonated in her ears.
Such a word can be easily uttered by anyone, but somehow his words successfully lessen her anxiety.
The duke patted her back a few times before her breathing became normal again.
After feeling okay, Calista tried to move away from the duke's shoulder, feeling like hiding her face would be rude for the person around her. She slowly looked at the people around her and found their gazes were still the same.
"Beatrice, I'm back," the duke stated to the woman with molten gold hair.
The woman in front of the duke snapped back to reality and was momentarily confused before responding to him.
"Magnus, it's been a long time since you left." Beatrice glances at Calista on his arm and cautiously asks, "Who might this child be?"
The duke, with a sense of nonchalance, replied, "This is Calista, my daughter."
He glanced down at Calista with little more than a neutral expression that rarely occurs on the duke's face.
Beatrice's eyes were constricted at her husband's words. She thought she was hearing things.
That can't be.
However, the increasing mutters around them made Beatrice realize that she heard it right.
"Oh, my God," one of the servants gasped, then whispered, "A bastard daughter."
One of the servants shut the servant's mouth with a disapproving look, but Beatrice heard it clearly.
"She will be staying here from now on. I expect excellent treatment of her, Beatrice," the duke stated, looking straight into Beatrice's honey-colored eyes.
Beatrice was beyond disbelief at his words. A mix of sadness, bitterness, and betrayal is raging inside her.
Calista, who was in the duke's arm, flinched as she met Beatrice's gaze. Her eyes are sharp with a sense of cold scrutiny, assessing Calista's presence with a subtle but intense judgment.
What made everything unsettling was the fact that Beatrice's expression was neutral, but her eyes spoke a thousand words.
A whimper suddenly echoed, garnering everyone's attention.
Calista shifted her gaze at the person standing behind Beatrice. A young lady with platinum blond hair with a pastel pink undertone was staring at her in the duke's arms.
Tears flood out of her eyes, and jealousy clouds her eyes.
Calista immediately thought of someone when she saw the child's appearance.
Lilian Vermilion. The novel's heroine.
....
A sense of shame and betrayal seeps into Beatrice's entire being at the unexpected event. She was expecting the event to be wholesome.
It should have been wholesome. The fact of a wife and the children waiting to welcome her husband after a year away is supposed to be wholesome.
However, she didn't imagine even once witnessing her own husband carrying a different child that wasn't born out of them.
Although infidelity is, unfortunately, a normal occurrence in the nobility, with some bastard children, it didn't come to light in the day, but Beatrice thought Magnus was different.
She knew that Magnus was different. He was not that kind of person.
Their marriage might not be a result of love but only a political union, but she still expected to be respected as his wife.
They lived as a married couple for almost thirteen years, but she didn't hear any cases of infidelity.
Did he hide it all along?
Beatrice snapped back from her reverie when she heard the click of the door. A few seconds later, she saw the familiar midnight-black hair and steel-blue eyes meeting her gaze.
"What are you doing here, Beatrice?" Magnus walked past her and went to get a change of clothes.
She watched this stoic person. She knew that Magnus doesn't want to be touched, even to the point that he doesn't let anyone help him dress up.
Beatrice absentmindedly spoke, "Do you need help?"
Magnus halted his actions, then turned to her with a frown on his face, a rare occurrence on his face. "What are you doing in my room, Beatrice?"
"I'm just doing my responsibility as your wife," she responded calmly, but her eyes said otherwise. There's a conflicting emotion that is raging inside her.
Magnus knew what she was talking about, but he let it slide. He turned his head back to changing his clothes without minding the other person in the room, as if that makes a difference; they already saw each other's bodies.
Without looking back at her, he spoke, "You should go back to your own chamber, Beatrice."
"Magnus..." she called helplessly.
He finally turned to face her. She has a helpless expression plastered on her face as she gazes at him.
"I'm here. I'm here! Why do you keep ignoring me?!" She shouted in frustration, her bottled emotions finally snapping out.
"I'm not ignoring you," he stated.
Beatrice burst into a bitter laugh at his empty words.
"Are you tired of me now?"
Beatrice immediately regretted her question.
Of course, he's tired of her. They are only forced to get married. Being married to someone you don't love for many years must have been agonizing.
Magnus heaves a sigh as he walks closer to her and places his hand on her shoulder.
She looked up, expecting something from him, but was disappointed once again. His gaze maintained its indifference.
"I know how disappointed you must've felt about Calista's existence," he started.
No, you don't.
"However, Beatrice, that child needs a lot of care and love. She went through a lot for her age, and I want to make up for those years I wasn't around. I hope you understand." His voice was so gentle that it almost made her heart swell.
"What's your plan?" She asked after a few seconds of silence.
A small smile appeared on his lips. "I want to make her an official member of the family."
Beatrice feels conflicted about his plan. Making her an official member means that Calista would be one of the potential heirs of the household and also bear the family's name.
It might not be unheard of for illegitimate children to be made an official member of the family, but there's a backlash to that situation. And most importantly, it will be a public scandal for the family.
Beatrice and her children will be a laughingstock in high society. She was against the idea. She can't let their family face such a thing.
Beatrice's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. She took a deep breath before speaking, her tone cold but composed.
"Do you understand what you're asking of me and this family, Magnus?" she said, her gaze sharp. "Introducing Calista as an official member might satisfy your guilt, but it will bring nothing but chaos to the rest of us."
"Beatrice—"
"No," she cut him off, her voice rising just slightly. "Our children have worked hard to uphold the family's reputation, and you would risk all of that for a child you barely know? How do you think they'll feel about this? How do you think society will react? You may think this is noble, but it's selfish."
Magnus frowned, his shoulders stiffening. "This isn't about society or appearances. It's about doing the right thing. Calista is my daughter. She deserves the same opportunities as the others."
"And what of our children?" Beatrice countered, her voice laced with bitterness. "Will you give her their inheritance as well? Divide what they've earned for someone who had no place here until now? You cannot make this decision without considering the cost."
The silence that followed was deafening, filled with tension and unspoken emotions. Magnus's face hardened, his earlier gentleness replaced by determination.
"I've made my decision, Beatrice," he said quietly. "I won't let my past mistakes dictate Calista's future. She will be a part of this family, with or without your support."
Beatrice's heart sank, but her pride wouldn't let her relent. "Then you'll do so knowing you've shattered the very foundation of this family."
She turned on her heel and left the room, her mind racing with plans to protect her children and herself from the impending scandal.